


Opposite of 'Complicated'

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Big Love
Genre: Closeted Character, F/F, Homophobia, Mormonism, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-12
Updated: 2006-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heather is certain that she's ill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opposite of 'Complicated'

_"I can't believe my parents sent me here. It's not like I have a disease."_  
"What do you mean… don't you?"  
"No, of course not!" 

Heather is certain that she's ill. "I think I have a fever, dad. Really. I think I should call in. It's not good for me to spread this on to customers." The heat runs all through her body when she thinks of going into work tonight. Mr. Tuttle puts his hand on her forehead.

"You don't feel hot to me, hon. You sure you just don't want to get out of working?" Mr. Tuttle smiles at his daughter, understanding, but not wanting this to become a habit.

"I really do feel sick. I promise it's just this one time. I should lie down." Heather's eyes get big and she appeals to her father's weakness for her. He nods, and she feels relief and something else, something new and strange, wash through her as she runs to her room. She talks to the manager over the phone, assuring him that she'll make up the hours next week.

Alone in her room, the fever seems more concentrated. Heather lies down and focuses on breathing and holding her hands tight to her sides and not thinking about Sarah or the slow burn that rises all through her core when she _does_.

_"I guess I just… don't understand. How did you know you were…?"_  
"Gay? A big dyke?"  
"…different." 

She's never felt like she's needed to rebel against her upbringing. The Mormon Church just makes sense to her. And maybe she's blind or something for not seeing all the possibilities in the joy of fornication and alcoholism; but honestly, sometimes it just feels good to be pure.

It certainly separates her from people like Donna; sleeping around and contracting venereal diseases. Heather doesn't have to worry about any of that stuff, and it makes life a lot simpler. Some of the girls who come into the center are awful messed up, and she's just glad that she doesn't have to deal with those kinds of things.

Heather has school, work, volunteering, church… that's enough. Isn't it?

_"I just knew."_  
"What, like you woke up one morning and thought, 'hey, self, I think I'm a lesbian!'?"  
"No… geez. Who told you this stuff? Okay, so how do you feel when you see a girl?"  
"Uh…" 

Wide eyes, pink lips. Hair scooped up in a long, blonde ponytail. _God, she's beautiful._ It's like a part of her is waking up, the sun rising on a new day, and Heather panics, pushing the feeling down. She pushes the broom and cleans the milkshake machine like nothing has changed, but she knows that something has. Something incredibly fundamental.

She watches Sarah wash the countertops out of the corner of her eye.

_"Well, okay. How about your best friend? Picture her."_  
"Okay…"  
"Well, it's like that. Only I want to kiss her, and do the things they aren't telling you about in sex ed."  
"Oh…" 

Sleeping over at the Henrickson's isn’t as weird as she thought it might have been. No one is glowing green or wearing nametags that say 'polygamist!' She and Sarah keep to themselves after dinner, retreating to her room.

They watch a movie and sit close on Sarah's bed, trying to ignore the space between them. They ignore the space between their twitching fingers, longing to make it smaller, make it non-existent, longing to touch and relieve the fire. Longing to start another.

They sleep without touching any more than accidental brushes, heated glances shrugged off as nothing. Heather wakes up first, watching the sun spray Sarah's hair full of gold. Finally, for the briefest of moments, in the early morning, Heather brushes her fingertip against Sarah's cheek.

_"I just freaked you out, didn't I?"_  
"No, I just… isn't it complicated?"  
"It can be the least complicated thing that's ever happened. It just makes sense, when it's right." 

"You know," Sarah says, "my grandma told me something when she was here." They are lying together once again on Sarah's bed. Sarah's fingers gently stroking patterns on Heather's stomach, sending chills up her spine.

"Yeah? What'd she say?" They are naked on the bed, covers pushed aside for now. Sweat is drying from their skin, the sheen of it making them more beautiful, even as they lay exhausted, hair rumpled and in disarray.

"She told me I was different. And that it was okay." Heather smiles to hear this. She knows that Sarah is different from her family. The door is locked, but it hardly needs to be because it's Sarah's mom's night with Mr. Henrickson, and that means that they won't be disturbed.

"I'm different too, I think," Heather says, rolling over and crawling to cuddle her body up next to Sarah's instead of in her lap. "And it's okay. More than okay, probably."  
"Mmm," Sarah responds and kisses her softly. "I think I'd have to agree."


End file.
